Sheep are Counting Me
by nerdy planet
Summary: AU. Arizona take a childcare job on a cruise ship to clear her mind and put herself back together after an especially rough year. This is where she meets her new roommate and workmate Callie.
1. Chapter 1

The backpack on my shoulders weighted a ton when the train finally arrived at the platform. The sturdy straps were digging into my skin as if the gravity had been increased 10 times and no one bothered to mention it to me. Or maybe I am accidentally carrying an illegal immigrant in there. Who knows.

I quickly pick up a heavy suitcase next to my leg and drag/force it into the cabin. The seat on the right in the first aisle is empty, which makes me do an internal victory dance. Even better - the seat turns out to actually be relatively comfortable as well; I guess this day can be called moderately tolerable. After this shit year a day with minor annoyances must be considered to be good.

People kept running around, some of them seemed to be in a hurry and some seemed to be genuinely lost. There is only one train on this platform with no assigned seating, how can you get lost? I swear I saw the same middle age woman pass my window at least six times.

My eyes drift to my reflection on the window. Great. The mess that you unfortunately have to call my hair is even more wild than usual. All this blonde chaos on top of my head needs a hair band. I automatically reach for my right wrist where I usually leave one or two hair bands, slide my fingers under the sleeve and… Oh shit. I forgot. I forgot the hair bands. How the hell did I forget something that is always and I mean ALWAYS on my hand? I mean, I even had them on when I went to my aunt's third wedding. To be fair, I forgot to take them off and when my mom noticed it they disappeared sooner than you could say "what". So how does an object that is never removed or even remembered gets left behind is beyond me.

Am I starting to lose memories?

Or even better, am I starting to sleepwalk?

Am I getting this crazy?

My thumb slides over the vertical scar marking my skin. This is perfect. I'm going away for months and here I am losing my last drops of sanity.

Someone coughs and I look up. A middle age man, whose face seems to be borrowed from a 1930s gentleman with its upwards pointed moustache, thick permanently frowning eyebrows and dull dry skin, is gesturing at the seat where I put my backpack on. I remove it and he flops down already interested in the newspaper he was carrying under his arm. He kind of reminds me of the monopoly guy. I find myself secretly wishing he would pull out a top hat and a monocle. It would make such a great story over a pint of beer…

The train seems to be ready to move. I instantly take out my iPod out of my pocket and put the earphones in. The monopoly guy glances towards me and looks back to his paper. I guess he just wanted to make sure that I am sane and not pulling out a gun or an atomic bomb. My hair seems to make people think I just escaped a mental institution… the irony is not lost on me. To be fair, the weather is very windy so it's not completely my fault that I look like I cook crystal meth in my basement.

"Ticket, please."

I focus my attention on the inspector guy while rummaging through my pockets. He seems to be in his thirties, fairly good-looking if you are into the whole penis kind of thing. He sort of has that old school Italian immigrant vibe; you know which one I'm talking about, the one that whenever you see any old picture of immigrants in America they all have that same look. He is only missing the hat thing and I could call him Mr. Corleone. Though it's probably the horrible conditions of transportation and difficult life as an immigrant itself that had them giving off a similar vibe. Ok, back to my ticket… I swear to god if I left it at home as well… nope, its right here. Monopoly guy gets his ticket back and stuffs it in his pocket, while the inspector guy checks mine. He soon tears a side of it and gives it back to me. I look down while putting it back in my pocket and notice that the inspector guy is still standing next to us. I lift my gaze and see that he is tilting his head and is slightly smirking. I raise an eyebrow. He shows his perfect smile and says.

"A girl like you should smile more."

Wow. Hitting on girls while doing your job. Impressive. And even with wonderful and trustworthy pickup lines. I'm flattered.

"A girl like me doesn't need be told what I should and should not do."

I look back to my earphones and try to untangle them. How the hell they got tangled in the one minute that I wasn't looking at them is beyond my comprehension of science. The inspector grunts and walks off. Yup really sexy. Grunting when you don't get your way. A lot of people do that… they're mostly under the age of 12, but hey… I guess we won't be able to be best friends forever. Tragic loss.

The corner of monopoly guy's lips seems to be slightly curled. I guess we just bonded over our distaste of misogyny.

I successfully untangle the earphones and put them in. Few hours left until I arrive at my station, time to take a nap. I close my eyes just as the train starts to move.

The journey begins.

When I finally open my eyes, monopoly guy is drinking coffee and doing a crossword puzzle. Of course you are, you are so the intellectual type. But wait… he has coffee… Did the snack cart pass by? Oh man… I wanted coffee… and a Snickers bar… and a few cookies… and stuff…

I internally sigh and look back to the window. There is a cheek shaped spot on the glass where my face was resting while I was sleeping. The scenery is indicating that we should reach the destination soon. That's good because I don't think I can sit here any longer and bare the guy next to me slurping his coffee in an overly joyful manner. Yeah, yeah, we both know you have the nectar of gods in your hands, no need to make your orgasm face.

The train starts lowering its speed and I carefully untangle my hair with my fingers. Who said you need a comb for this task. The monopoly guy stands up and moves to the door. Oh. He's one of those people. The ones that stand next to the doors until they open, even though there is still around 5 minutes of waiting left. The same ones that stand up in the planes that just landed and block the exit.

I slowly pull out my backpack out of between my legs and set in on the monopoly guy's seat. A quick look inside and I find my wallet. By the time I take out the money and throw the wallet back in, the train completely stops and the doors open. Monopoly guy fleas the cabin and I put the backpack back on my shoulders. Definitely did not miss this weight. I grab my suitcase and leave the train. I need to buy some hair bands somewhere. In this busy town I do stumble across a shopping mall. Excellent. People seem to be quite in a hurry, running around, shouting. Maybe it's the tourists… but no, the tourists do the opposite – they barely move and take up way too much space on the streets… It's probably just annoyed town citizens, since the cruise leaves today there's probably tons of tourists marching around and pissing everyone off. I guess they are regretting living in a town with a harbor. God damn tourism, bringing in money into this town's economy and what not…

The shopping mall looks like every single shopping mall there is – big, white, boring and with too many people with kids. I stroll down the path, maneuvering between the people with an oversized suitcase in my hands. I keep telling myself that if I knock a child over it's totally not my fault. I notice a shop that might sell what I need and instantly move towards it. I need to get out of his building as soon as I can. Too many obnoxiously loud people for my liking… I know… I'll be spending a long time on a restricted amount of space with loads of people soon so this should not be so bad. But it is. It just is.

I quickly scan over the aisles and notice the hair accessories. Praise Jesus. There's a lot of variety but simple black ones will be good enough, I don't want to stand here longer than I need to. Who cares about fashion in the middle of the sea.

All the self-checkouts are busy so I unenthusiastically stand in line. In front of me there are at least 6 people. Damn it. I twist the merchandise between my fingers and overhear a female voice behind me talking with someone. I glance back and only see the back of a girl that is talking. There are at least two more people really interested in what she is saying. And why wouldn't you. Even her back is good-looking. Perfect body, perfect clothes, perfect dark hair, and perfect complexion. How can it be physically possible to even have a back this hot? I mean those tight jean shorts show off her attributes wonderfully, even the loose top that she has on somehow still says that she has incredible upper body. Why must such beautiful people exist? Why must they make me feel like a man in a desert with the oasis in front of their eyes? I mean I'm one step away from drooling. Honestly I might even be doing that right now, I don't know and I'm fairly sure I don't even care if I did. I rip my eyes off of her and look at the front of the line angrily. I hear her laugh that is followed by a few guys laughing with her. She is so that type, the type that think they can get anyone or anything they want. They are overly confident and show off every attribute they have at every given chance. Yes, flirt with those guys, why not, you are the perfect human being, that's your purpose really. Like a pretty decoration be there and make others gaze at you longingly while not contributing anything intellectual to the conversation. We get it, you are incredibly good-looking, I'm so happy for you.

Soon enough I purchase the hair bands and walk out of the confined capitalism worship space. Oh fresh air, how I missed you. I fish out a pack of cigarettes and light one. Fuck you, fresh air, don't judge me.

The walk towards the harbor itself isn't long, only around 15 minutes. I manage to finish my cigarette and feel slightly more relaxed. I still need to call my mom to let her know I'm still a functioning member of society, but this can wait for a bit. First I need to find the ship. I wonder how many scenarios has my mom imagined of my ship going down like a titanic. I hope she imagined me as Rose… no, wait, as Jack… I want to be _with _Rose a lot more…

The harbor is full of ships, but only one really stands out that I'm pretty sure is mine. I mean… I'm going on cruise ship; I doubt 100 people would fit in a fishing boat…

Stopping by close to the ship right under a tree I take out my phone and light another cigarette. If I go through them at this rate, soon I will end up spending all my salary on the cancer sticks.

"Hello?"

"Hey, mom" I say and slowly exhale the smoke while turning my face away from the phone.

For some reason I don't like when my mom knows I smoke and when I don't. Childish and immature, I know. Oh well, one more character flaw I have, yay me.

"How is travelling?"

"Good, I'm already here, just, you know, figured I should let you know I arrived."

"Oh that's great, how does the boat look? Is it big? Are there a lot of people? Have you met the crew yet?"

"Mom, calm down. The ship looks… ship-y, you know, like all ships, white and big. There is quite a bit of people and no I haven't met anyone since I literally just got here."

"Oooh. When are you leaving?"

My gaze falls on random people stumbling on the cruise , talking to the crew and laughing. I guess they are my future crewmates. They look friendly, that's good. As long as I'm not stuck with anyone annoying I should be ok for the next 3 months.

There are people dressed in white, carrying suitcase, boxes, other shit into the boat and relaxed people dressed in those touristy clothes, that are very loose and very good for air ventilation, walking on board. I guess people are finally gathering.

My mom seems to be talking about something. I vaguely remember that she asked me something and I didn't respond but I guess she figured I'm gathering my thoughts. Plus that gives her a perfect opportunity to vent about things. A wonderful example of a symbiotic family relationship – she needs to talk, I need to reflect. I think she gets the fact that I don't have a lot to say right now. I always did that. Even as a child if I'm slightly nervous I will either talk too much or be quiet and pensive. This probably got worse after this year.

I catch her saying something about our neighbors' new poodle when I say:

"Look, mom, I should go, everyone is gathering. I guess we will be leaving rather soon. I will call you as soon as I can."

"Will you be able to call when you are in the sea?"

"I don't know, possibly, we'll see. I really should go."

"Ok, take care, Arizona, I love you. I hope you'll find what you're looking for."

I can hear from her voice that she is holding back tears. I get it. She vented because she was scared of me leaving and she just wanted me to have some connection with her. I guess I got the talkative personality trait from her. It's strange. I know I should be touched by this but I'm not. I mean… I'm not happy that she is sad, she lost so much already, but… at the same time I don't feel like I care that much. I guess that's the legacy of last year showing up… feeling kind of numb and hollow…

"I will, I love you too, talk to you later."

We end our conversation and I proceed to the ship after I discard the cigarette butt. A short guy with dark hair and dressed in white jumps in front of me. I slightly flinch because of how unexpected this encounter is.

"Good afternoon, can I see your ticket, miss? I will take the suitcase right afterwards."

He shows his smile full force, his prominent dimples giving him boyish charm. Light freckles are visible through his tanned skin on his nose. The fact that his strong jaw line is completely smooth makes me think that it's part of the job to look as presentable as you can. His movements seem to be energetic, but restricted, kind of like a waiter waiting the table at the end of his shift – being extremely tired, but faking it with a wide smile to fool the customer. Another giveaway of his energy level is his light blue eyes – they seem to be slightly dull and unfocused. His left hand is stretched towards me, expecting my ticket; there is a small anchor tattoo visible on the upper part of his arm. It's really close to one the veins that can be easily seen on his skin. For some reason it's one of the things I find unattractive on guys. The whole prominent veins stuff. It's weird, I know. It's just… girls have this smooth skin, the veins hidden deep within. I don't know. It's just… not my thing…

"Hi, I'm not a guest, I'm here for work. I think I need to speak with Mr. Fugazi?"

The guy seems to visibly relax and blow out some air. His wide smile is long gone, shoulders are slumped and he brushes his thick dark hair out of his eyes.

"Yeah, I think he is inside, probably somewhere on deck. Just ask anyone dressed in white if they've seen him."

"Cool, thanks."

"No problem."

I slightly smile and head towards the entrance still dragging around my baggage. I think I can't feel my right hand by now but I still tug it with me towards the stairs, trying to avoid any people in front of me. The haunting realization daunts on me that they are all tourists; therefore they all will be slower than the police arriving to the scene of a racial crime. And I will have to be around this for the next couple of months. Was this my subconscious trying to punish myself in a more creative socially acceptable way?

Thankfully not all the passengers have boarded yet so I can walk up the stairs with relative ease. The deck sports a large pool and tons of lounge chairs. The whole ship is incredibly fancy. Or maybe just very well-maintained. Maybe it's like the Hollywood movie sets – looks strong but actually made out of cardboard. That's slightly creepy. I don't want to be in the middle of the ocean in a cardboard box.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note:** So… umm, hi. I just have a few things to mention and then all of us can continue reading another chapter of the story, ok?

1. If anyone wants to be a beta reader for this story, feel free to speak up. My grammar is shit even in my own native language so I can't promise any quality in this piece of fiction. I have no idea how I managed to graduate with the amount of mistakes I make in my writing, haha.

2. For now I have some stuff written in advance so there should be regular updates for a little bit. I can't make any guarantees for the future, though, since I have way too much shit going on – moving back to London/ finding a cheap room to rent/ finding a job, etc. I'll try to be nice and update as much as I can but life has a tendency to fuck plans up so I apologize in advance for all the times I will probably disappear.

3. Thanks for taking an interest in this story. My ego appreciates this.

And now back to the story.  
-

There aren't that many tourists here, which is probably because they are either still crawling through the ship taking pictures of every ornament they find, or they are unpacking. Both options are completely plausible. It's actually a good thing because it's not that hard to notice other crew members. A tall girl dressed in a white button up shirt and white skirt is the closest to me so I drag my suitcase towards her. She is looking around, probably trying to find someone on the deck.

"Hey, could you tell me where Mr. Fugazi is?"

She looks at me and narrows her eyes in attempt to remember. Her red hair is perfectly tied in a bun; I can't see even a single loose strand. Her full red lips start moving and I focus my attention back to what she is saying. It's always distracting when a pretty girl is talking, even when she is not my type. Although, this girl is probably everyone's type.

"I think I saw him by the Children's Pool over there in the front. Just keep walking to this direction" she motions to something behind her with her hand, "And you should find him."

"Thanks" I politely smile and proceed to the shown direction.

"Are you new here?"

"What?"

"Are you going to work on this cruise?"

The girl has raised her eyebrow indicating that she is genuinely interested.

"Yeah I'm on children duty."

"Oooh, poor you, for the past two trips the kids here were" She quickly looks around to check that there are no passengers around her to overhear, "Complete assholes. I swear most of the crew wanted to throw them overboard at least once."

I awkwardly chuckle and flex my fingers while holding the suitcase.

"I guess exciting times are waiting for me."

The girl smiles and nods.

"You can bet on that. This ship is almost always carrying annoying children. The last girl had to quit because she couldn't take it anymore."

Well that's great news knowing my medical history and emotional state.

"Seems like I chose the perfect way to spend 3 months of my life."

"Well you might get lucky and end up with decent ones. Who knows, right?" She says while starting to walk away.

"Yeah, I'll have to get a prayer circle to pray for me" I absent-mindedly respond while moving to opposite direction.

She chuckles and looks back at me.

"I'm Addison, but everyone calls me Addie, come over to my table when we'll be having dinner tonight."

"I'm Arizona and I'll do that, see you around."

The girl nods and walks up to some tourist who judging from his facial expression seems to be lost. She moves in that simple all-American girl fashion, not too sexy, but still with little sex appeal at the same time. I would so hit on her under normal circumstances… like if she weren't a colleague, or a person who I will have to share limited amount of space with, or that my mental stability is not exactly, well, stable. I can't afford going crazy in the middle of the sea.

I successfully find the kids pool, which ironically has a no swimming sign. There is an Asian guy fixing one of the lounge chairs position to my right.

"Excuse me, are you Mr. Fugazi?"

The guy ignores me for a couple of seconds while moving the chair a few millimeters and suddenly turns to me. He looks like he's in his fifties, with some grey in his stubble and head hair. He has a small beer gut, but somehow it makes him look more approachable, kind of like a Santa Claus effect.

"Yes, that's me."

"Right, I'm Arizona Robbins, I'm here for the job… the childcare one…"

He narrows his eyes and just stares at me for a few seconds. It's slightly awkward since he is not even blinking. Maybe he is having a vision or something, maybe he's like a ghost whisperer. Nah, he needs huge boobs and incredibly well-maintained hair for that.

"Oh yeah yeah, I remember now. You're a bit early; the crew meeting is only a few hours later."

"Aaah, yeah I know, it said in the letter that I should come earlier because of my medical history… I need to sign some papers or something…"

The guy seems to get lost in thought again but now he's looking up at the sky in attempt to remember what I was talking about. Suddenly his eyes snap back to me.

"Oh right, yeah, you're the girl with no experience and… stuff…"

I don't even attempt to fully smile, just slightly lift a corner of my lips to indicate the acknowledgement of his sentence. It's not fun to be remembered as a crazy girl who slashed her own wrists. Mr. Fugazi motions for me to follow him and I'm not sure if I should be happy or not. On one hand I finally arrived after all this time, on the other hand this is it… I can't get out of this now; no more available choice of return… also my hand feels like it's on fire by now. I really should have fixed my suitcase wheels before going on this journey.

I follow him through the ship, going right to the bridge. I read somewhere that seeing the captain on a cruise ship is like spotting a celebrity. I might get some cool point out of this experience I guess.

Mr. Fugazi quickly opens the door and holds them open for me to enter. There are people walking around, I think checking that all the equipment is not damaged. No captain around or at least no one that looks like a captain: no wooden leg, a parrot on a shoulder or a pipe between the lips.

There is a small office on the right, slightly hidden by either very misplaced or cleverly situated to mask the entrance decorative tree. We walk in and the guy pulls out some papers out of a drawer.

"Just sign these; it's saying that we will not be liable if you suddenly become a danger to yourself or someone else."

Oh. Just that. Nothing big.

Mr. Fugazi hands them to me and looks at me impatiently. I think he expects me to sign them without even skimming over what it says. In the back of my mind I can feel alarms going off saying that if I actually take my time to read I will annoy him, which will result in my job becoming more nerve-wrecking than it should be. I guess I'll have to read extra fast.

My eyes scan over the words fully knowing that this contract will make me feel even more under pressure than usual and I look up to Mr. Fugazi.

"Do you have a pen I can borrow?"

He is fixing a stack of papers placed on a filling cupboard. He might have some OCD thing because he is really attentive to even slightly misplaced objects. He doesn't even turn his face towards me.

"There should be one on a table."

I scan over the table and find a pen under some kind of small map. Quickly signing the contract while feeling like I'm signing my soul away to Satan, I put the pen back and hand the papers to Mr. Fugazi.

"Great. Now you need to leave the ship and come back later since I don't have the authorization card for you yet."

And I had to come here to sign the fucking papers 2 hours earlier than everyone else for this. It took me like 10 minutes. Great. Another smoking break it is…

"Ok, thanks, bye."

Mr. Fugazi waves his hand and resumes his paper fixing task. I awkwardly escape the ship that now actually feels to be even more filled with annoying people. God. Three fucking months of this.

Why do they even have the meeting so late anyways? I mean don't they need someone to look after the children when the parents are moving into their cabins? This is so unnecessarily unstructured.

The shadow under the tree that I previously occupied has been taken over by some random group of teenagers. I immediately move further away from them while internally telling myself that I'm an adult and I shouldn't be intimidated by some random kids.

I finally find some free space on a bench facing towards the sea. It really does have a great view; it's perfect for the healthy minutes of filling my lungs with smoke.

A cigarette later I realize that I am very, indescribably bored. My iPhone needs to have its battery preserved just in case - that piece of equipment loses 20 percent just by turning on a Tetris app. A book it is then. I take it out of my backpack and soon immerse myself in the land of fiction.

Time goes by quickly enough and I finally head back to the entrance of the ship, where as I can see a small group of people have accumulated. There is still around 15 minutes left, so I stand a bit to the side and light another cigarette. I think no one has even noticed that I'm standing near them. That's good; I'm not in my social mood yet. My brain is still focused on the book in my backpack, trying to make sense of what I've been reading for the last couple of hours. In the corner of my eye I notice something familiar. And then the laugh. The wonderful confident girly laugh. Oh god. It can't be.

I turn my head and see the girl from the shopping mall casually talking with one of the guys in our small little group. Whyyyy... why must she be here… I knew this is going to be hell, I mean I signed my soul away not so long time ago now. Why must overly-confident and beautiful girl with definite self-righteous personality be here? I bet she thinks the world owes her something. She is so pretty that she is used to everyone giving her all their attention and offering her everything they can. Entitled little brat. Her parents probably own this whole cruise ship or something. Why else would she be here.

I finish my cigarette and notice a few people giving me strange glances. Why are they… oh shit, did I grunt out loud when I was thinking about that girl? Please tell me I didn't. Of course I did, my own body is trying to sabotage my social life.

Mr. Fugazzi appears out of nowhere. I swear he wasn't here a second ago. Crouching tiger, hidden dragon, huh.

"Hello, my name is Mr. Fugazi. No you cannot know my first name as I am not your friend but employer."

A few people immediately lower their hands. I guess they really wanted to know his name.

"Our main goal is to provide the best possible customer service. Most of you are going to end up in groups of two, depending on what job you signed up for. It is extremely likely that the person you'll be working with is your roommate as well."

A few people release a few "oh's" and "ah's".

"What else did I miss… umm… there is going to be a complimentary dinner for all employees tonight… well not all, since the ship can't function without someone working. Anyways, you will meet some of our old workers, get to know each other and enjoy a nice meal as well. I have all of your authorization cards here and the room list. So, when I call your name you need to step up and take the card. I will call out your roommates name and after he or she gets their card you get the room keys and can go on your way to your cabin. The rest of instructions will be told during the dinner."

Mr. Fugazi takes out a list out of his pocket, which is so neatly folded that I think he used a ruler for that. He clears his voice and looks at us.

"Also there is no change in rooms. Well, that will only happen if you try to kill each other or something. We do not and I can't stress this enough, we do NOT care about your petty disagreements, we do not have time to solve your problems. Please act like adults and work well with the group. Everyone got that?"

He looks at everyone and somehow does make us feel threatened. It's probably that unblinking stare that he has going on that lets him be so intimidating.

"First we have a few kitchen porters joining our team. Jackson Avery, could you please come up here and take your card?"

A guy dressed completely in black comes up to him. He kind of looks like he just got here from a bank robbery – black jeans, black trainers, black sweater. He's missing a bandit hat, but that can easily be purchased from a nearby store, I'm sure.

"Here you go. Your roommate is Alex Karev, please come here Alex."

Another guy comes up, but my attention gets distracted by a random kid falling over his little sister in the street. I quietly chuckle and hear my name being called out.

"Arizona Robbins, childcare services, come here please."

I drag my suitcase past the little group and I can feel all of them sizing me up and judging if I'm friendly. I take the card and check the photo on it. I look relatively ok, not like I own 10 cats in my parents' basement as I do in all of my other photos. I stuff it in my pocket and look expectantly at Mr. Fugazi. He is checking the list. Then he lifts his eyes and widely smiles.

"Alright, your partner in crime is… Crystal Torres."

I raise both of my eyebrows. Am I the only who thinks that's a bit of a strippers name? No insult to anyone with that profession, I just didn't expect any on this cruise… and in childcare services…


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note: By the way, I am twisting and turning the whole cruise ship thing to suit the story since I have no idea how they work, or even their usual layout/ or crew hierarchy, etc. I've only done a small research on google and youtube, so... yeah... don't judge me if somethings starts sounding unrealistic...

I turn my head and… yup… the girl that I so actively and joyfully dislike moves towards us. She seems to be amused by something. This. Is. Great. Sharing a room with a pretentious girl who never worked a day in her life. Just what I wanted. She stands next to me and gives me a wide confident smile and takes the card from Mr. Fugazi. God. She is even more attractive up close. That is just… not fair. I mean it's one thing to look good from far away, but come on, everyone knows the level of attractiveness naturally decreases by how much closer that person gets to you. Why must you be so genetically gifted? Those perfect brown eyes, rimmed with long dark eyelashes, full naturally red lips, strong cheekbones and a great jawline. Even that small scar on her nose looks incredibly sexy. How will I be able to sleep in the same room with this creature? I mean, I feel like we're different species.

She takes both of our keys and looks at me questioningly.

"Shall we go?" She asks.

Oh for fuck sakes. Even her voice has that slight huskiness that makes you want to tear your clothes off. How… why… how can every attractive feature be put in one single person? Pease say something racist or homophobic. Please, just be an extreme bitch, please. The fact that you are an entitled, spoiled brat with an oversized ego isn't good enough for me to not want to have very _very_ dirty thoughts about you.

"Yeah."

"I'm Callie." She mentions when we start moving.

This makes me lose my very dirty train of thought and give her a confused look.

"I thought your name is Crystal…"

She chuckles and the wind makes her hair move as if she is in a Disney film. I half expect small animals come in and carry the bags for her…

"That was kind of a joke. I've known Roger for a while now…I mean Mr. Fugazi."

I slowly nod and furrow my brows.

"So basically he just called you a different name in front of other people and that's the joke?"

"It's kind of a long story… But in short version, he finds my full name funny so he has a thing with calling me in different ways now. "

"What other names has he used?"

"It depends on a phase he's going through; a few years ago he only called me in old women names, like Miranda, Helen or Vivian."

I smile and quickly move out of the way of some tourist awkwardly going down the stairs.

"I'm Arizona by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Arizona." She gives a big smile and I can feel my insides melting. "I just realized that I've been put in a stripper name phase. I should be working in a bar called 'Fantasy Land' or 'Boobs Heaven' or something."

I laugh and finally understand the worst thing possible. She is friendly. And seems to be genuinely nice. I will not survive this job. This is just pure torture.

"How about 'Hoe Zone'? Or 'Big hole'?" I add.

She stares at me with her mouth open, obviously surprised that I made fun of her fake name further. This lasts a few painfully awkward seconds and I decide to apologize. As soon as I open my mouth to say I'm sorry she starts laughing. I swear this sound can heal cancer or something. It's sort of hypnotizing to see her laughing; she gives into it so completely. As if there is absolutely nothing to hold her back, like what was said is the funniest thing ever. Her whole face seems to be the description of pure joy. And I'm not even jealous. It feels right. There is so much pain and sadness in the world already, that this simple act of someone laughing so freely feels comforting. Like there can still be something positive in this world. Like someone is still able to live by their own rules, to not be afraid to express their emotions fully in fear that they will be hurt.

I start looking around wondering where the hell I can find a map, when Callie recovers from her burst of laughter.

"That was pretty good, Arizona."

I look at her and internally appreciate how her eyes seem to be all warm and friendly. Just looking at them feels like I'm being hugged… my God… I sound like I am twelve and have never seen a naked body before… Is this how I will be feeling throughout the whole cruise? Like a fucking Virgin Mary?

"Um… thanks. Do you know where we need to go, because I'm already lost?" I smile sheepishly.

"Oh yeah, don't worry. I've been on this ship before, follow me."

She quickly moves to the side of the room and opens a door with a 'crew only' sign on it.

"After you, my lady." She says in a humorous tone.

I smile and go in.

"I kind of expected this ship to be bigger." I say after taking in my surroundings, which is basically a long hallway with doors.

"Be glad. Bigger ship means bigger work load. I've worked in one, where I managed to escape to the port four times at most. Plus the crew will not be as annoying as in big ships. Usually there is a stupid hierarchy going on, but here everyone should be friendly enough." She says this while dragging her luggage effortlessly down the hallway. Since the corridor is pretty narrow for two people carrying large bags, I get to walk behind her. I am happy with this. Very_ very _happy. I get to see how her perfect body moves while not even getting caught. Yup, today is a good day.

"So you have worked quite a lot around ships, huh?" I ask.

"A bit. At one point I wanted an escape and got this." She chuckles and moves hair out of her face.

"I can relate to that."

She quickly looks back at me while still walking. I internally thank God that I was not staring at her ass in that moment.

"Is this your first cruise job?"

"Yup."

She nods her head and stops to one of the bigger doors on our right. She places her hand on the wood and looks straight into my eyes. Here we go again; Virgin Mary in full force.

"I will show you where everything is when we go to the dinner, alright?"

I nod and she looks at her watch. Wow. She actually wears a watch. I haven't seen people wearing one in such a long time… With this smartphone society watches have become slightly obsolete I guess… or everyone I know has decided that watches aren't cool anymore…

"Alright, we have about an hour and a half for unpacking."

She takes one of the keys and opens the door. How exciting. Another hallway. This one seems to be properly numbered, like in hotels. I guess we have almost reached our room.

"A12… A15…" She says under her breath while frowning and moving forward. "There you are. A18. Our own private palace."

She quickly unlocks the door and gestures for me to go in. I'm not sure if I'm happy with her chivalry. It narrows down the time I can spend looking at her body like a pervert that it turns out I now am.

The room is pretty small, which is a definite understatement. It has two beds that don't really have that much space in between them. Two small steps at most. There is a desk with a TV on it on our right, and another door with a mirror on it on our left. I'm guessing that's the bathroom. Also, a medium size wardrobe is standing on the same side, which I'm guessing we will have to be sharing. The small porthole is right in between our beds, not really giving any extra light to the room, but I guess it does serve well for a decorative function.

Callie turns on the light and looks at me. This light accentuates her skin, Spanish heritage shining through in full force. I bet she thinks that I just managed to dig my way out of an igloo that I've spent last 15 years in and this is the first time my skin is feeling any light. It's kind of true though, I guess, if hospitals can count as igloos.

"Which side do you want?" She asks.

"Either one is fine by me."

"Ok, I'm taking the left one then."

She puts her bags on the bed and stretches while I slowly move to my bed. Finally. I've been waiting for this moment this whole day. I place my suitcase on the sheets and stretch my hand. It hurts. Badly. I clench my jaw and start moving my fingers to encourage the blood circulation. It really wasn't a good idea for me drag that bag around this long, or at least that's what my hand is obviously trying to tell me with the searing pain.

"Here, let me." I hear her voice right next to me and slightly jump in my skin. I didn't even hear when she moved towards me.

She gently takes my hand and slowly massages it. I'm not sure if the pain level is actually decreasing or my Virgin Mary is acting up since I feel like I can melt just because of her touch. Either way, I am definitely not complaining. I start imagining a dog having behind its ears scratched and the way its face looks like it's in heaven. I probably look like that dog right now… and it's perfectly fine… there isn't a creature that would not feel like I do if this woman touched them…

"Are you feeling better?"

I am still stuck in my orgasm-like state and miss what she is saying.

"Arizona?"

"Wha… What?"

"Is your hand any better now?"

"Oh, yeah thanks." She almost reluctantly lets go of my hand.

I give her a small smile and turn back to my bed and take off my backpack. I hide my deep blush under my hair and mentally curse myself for spacing out. Great job, Arizona, a beautiful woman tries to help you and you almost completely stop functioning. How very sane of you.

I open my suitcase while trying not to show that my shoulders are in pain too. I can only imagine what would be left of me if she actually touched my body and not only my hand. No, sir, this, she will definitely not have access to. I need to keep my sanity levels as stable as possible.

I take out a few sweaters and move to the wardrobe while trying to look at Callie from the corner of my eye. She is trying to take out her laptop's charging cable that seems to have twisted its way into her clothes. Her face looks annoyed but still so very painfully attractive.

By the time I put my clothes on the upper shelf, she grunts and simply steps away from the bag.

"You know what, I'll go take a quick shower and then finish unpacking. I need to cool down a bit I think." She says with a small smile and glances at my side of the room. "Well someone is organized."

"Yeah, this kind of comes with my upbringing I guess."

"Oh?" Her body language is so open, almost shouting how much she wants to know and that makes me slightly annoyed.

It kind of feels like she is trying to befriend the class loner. Like I'm some kind of interesting story and that's it. After I tear my ribs apart and show what is inside me, she will lose interest and disappear. No one wants to stick around a person who has difficulties everywhere they turn. A challenge is only fun when you know there is a definite result. My mood and sanity are too unpredictable to be worthy of someone's permanent interest. She will not heal me; she will not save me from myself. She will drag herself around me, get frustrated and leave to find someone better. Why stick with a damaged model, when you can get a brand new complication-free one, right?

"Oh I just come from a very organized background, that's it. My family likes to keep things structured." I vaguely answer and proceed with my unpacking.

Callie narrows her eyes trying to judge me from what I just said, but we both know it's not enough to really make any strong conclusions. At most she can figure out that I like my life to be private and that I like to be tidy. It's possible that she put me in a neat freak category already, but I don't care about that one too much. Because that will never really have any effect on her directly – I like _my _things tidy, I don't care what other people do with their stuff.

After a few seconds of her following me with her eyes, she turns around and goes into the bathroom. I finally let out a sigh that I've been holding in this whole day. This is exhausting. After many months of avoiding social situations in general, this feels like a game set on a maximum difficulty level. Hopefully this kick will be good enough for me to finally start interacting with people again. I mean, I don't have anywhere else to turn to, this is it, I must force myself to function like a normal human being.

I just need to keep a pleasant look on my face. And smile. You can get away with so much if you are smiling. People won't care and ask questions as long as you look presentable enough.

Come on, Arizona, you can do this.

Three months. That's it.

You like structure and here everything will be organized to the smallest detail.

You will mostly work and have no time for thinking.

No bad thoughts, just work. That's all you've been craving for. A distraction.

Maybe you will be so tired at the end of the day that you will start sleeping normally again. No dreams, no restlessness. Just… peace.

I hear the shower running indicating that a very naked Callie is standing right on the other side of the doors. I try to swallow but my dry mouth prevents that from happening.

Nope, I am not going to be able to find peace with her in the same room.

Hopefully we will have such fucked up schedules that we will barely see each other. That sounds good. That sounds like I will be able to keep myself sane enough.

By the time I finish processing all my thoughts I notice that I'm almost finished with unpacking. A quick look at my phone tells me that I still have an hour left. I should take a shower after Callie. These hours of travelling definitely did not help me lose the homeless look I normally have.

I take out my laptop and put it on the desk. This is when I notice the remote for the TV. I start playing around with it, surfing through the channels and then finally Callie steps out. Only wearing a towel. That still leaves a lot of skin for my viewing…

Am I dead?

Is this heaven?

Or maybe hell, since I have no chance with her anyway?


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: **So I've finally moved in into my new place: it's cold, small and the inside kind of looks like one of those flats in block apartment buildings in Soviet Union (old as in _not classy but cheap and poorly made _cabinets, a cooker that was probably made when my Grandmother was born, and all kinds of other shit). What's worse, my new housemates are more of slobs than I am so I avoid the kitchen more than Satan avoids a Cross.

Well, anyway, I've been gone for a bit so here's another _longer than usually _chapter as a Christmas/ New Years/Apology for being gone for a while present all in one. And I _might _write the next chapter in Callie's POV, **_might. _**Well, now I'm off to get drunk and I hope you are all having a good day. Cheers.

* * *

She gives me a small smile and walks to her suitcase.

"Sorry, I forgot to take the clothes with me. I swear I don't usually walk around wearing only a towel."

I slowly nod while turning my stare to the wall and forcing myself to keep a neutral expression. My brain has pretty much shut down by this point.

"I know this is not the greatest first impression, honestly, I'm usually a lot more attentive towards other people."

She genuinely sounds sorry. And I don't know if she should be or not. On one hand, an almost naked body of a beautiful woman sounds like a positive thing, on the other hand, I doubt this image will ever leave my brain and will cause me to have trouble focusing on anything ever again.

"Sometimes I just do things and forget to think them through, and then end up in awkward situations that are not only uncomfortable for me but for other people as well. Once I managed to end up in a bar with two Russian guys who didn't speak any English, and a horse. Yes, a real alive horse. I still don't know what exactly happened that night, but I'm sure I said or did something that caused it." She kept rambling on while my brain started slowly working again.

"It's ok, Callie. It's an honest mistake, no harm done. I'm going to take a shower now, if that's alright."

She immediately shuts up and smiles. Maintain eye contact, Arizona, you can do it. Your eyes must not go lower than her chin. Don't check her out right in front of her. Do it discreetly, like when she is walking in front of you or when she bends over to pick up something. Like every normal adult does. Simple.

I quickly grab some clothes and go to the bathroom. Finally, some safety.

The room has a distinct smell of flowers and my eyes drift to a mirror covered in steam. I gently wipe some of it away and stare at my reflection. The same tired face, the same closed-off blue eyes and to make this a winning combination – pale unhealthy looking skin. At some point in my life this would have upset me, but I've grown so used to this shell of myself that this barely registers in my brain. The only thought that does come up is that there is no chance in hell I could get anyone interested in me.

I quickly strip off my clothes and jump into the shower cubicle. The water is just hot enough to give comfort to my tired body. I feel myself relaxing and my mind finally getting empty. No bad crazy thoughts, no sarcasm to hide behind, just nothing. I could probably cry how good this feels if I didn't know that that would look very strange to a gorgeous girl on the other side of the door.

Somewhere in the background I can hear a hair dryer going off and some music being played. I close my eyes and slightly smile. Yes. This feels wonderful.

What is even better, no one is pacing on the other side of this wall worrying if I will come out of here or not. Worrying that I picked up a razor and decided to take my own life again. It makes me feel free. Like an adult. While I love my parents, they've been looking at me like I'm carrying a loaded gun next to my head at all times. It's exhausting. Not only because you feel stupid and inferior, but also because you start acting a certain part. The mentally stable one. You smile, try to look energetic and like you genuinely care about what is going on. While you really _really fucking _don't.

After 15 minutes I turn off the shower and change into other, fancier looking clothes. And by that I mean they don't have any holes or dirt on them.

I step out of the bathroom and find Callie working on something on her laptop while lying on the bed. She is fully dressed and looks like she stepped out of a fashion catalogue showing the new "Welcome Aboard" collection.

"Do you have a laptop?" she asks turning her eyes to look straight at me. A slight shiver runs down my back. Those big brown eyes will be the death of me.

"Yeah, it's right here" I respond and take out my computer out of the drawer under the bed. "Why?"

"I can't connect to internet, so I figured I'll see if you can. I swear if it's my laptops problem I will kill someone, I spent way too much money on it so it must work properly."

I quickly press the power on button and start putting my old clothes into the washing bag.

"So is there a reason you're so desperate to get online?" I ask while praying that she doesn't find this question suspicious. I mean, I'm totally not fishing for clues if she has a boyfriend or girlfriend waiting for her or anything…

"Nah, I just wanted to set everything up on my laptop properly and all that."

"What, you want to change your Facebook location to At the Bottom of the Sea Chilling with Spongebob Squarepants?"

This makes her smile, which makes me want to start writing love songs. Maybe I could join Coldplay.

"No, I have to let some people know about my whereabouts, so it's basically a lot of emailing really."

"Oh? So this is an impromptu type of trip for you, huh?"

"Not really, I just avoided telling some people where I am so they don't get in my way of doing this."

I nod and focus my attention back to laptop.

Either she is running away from something or she doesn't trust people, maybe both. Sounds slightly familiar…

"Well, it seems to be working for me." I say after entering the network password.

She quickly says something in Spanish, which judging from the tone, is not exactly PG rated.

"Let me check it out" I say and take the laptop. Honestly, I have no real idea what I'm doing, I'm not too bad with computers but this doesn't seem to be the area of my expertise. Still, I check the network panel trying to locate the problem, but everything seems alright. "In theory, there might be a problem with your wireless card but I'm not making any guarantees, this is just a guess."

She looks slightly impressed and I may or may not feel like I just won the biggest award in all human history.

I hand the laptop back and check the time. Almost half an hour left.

"I'll get this checked out by some IT guy around here; usually there is one travelling along." She says while putting her laptop on the bed next to her and sitting up to face me full on. "How about we just talk? You know, get to know each other?"

Shit. This can turn to a very bad direction. There are so many basic topics that I don't like talking about. I will seem like an asshole if I don't answer them or like a completely damaged and pitiful girl if I do. Fuck.

"Ok." I hear myself say while my heart's beating speed dramatically increases. I'm hoping she can't hear how nervous I actually am. God, it'd be so much easier if she did not look like… well, like _herself. _She's way too intimidating and what's worse I genuinely want to get to know her.

"Let's start with simple questions I guess…"

Great. Just great.

I nod.

"What is your biggest achievement?"

I look at her surprised. That's not exactly… a simple question…

"Or what is your greatest weakness?" She has a big smile on her face. "Or even better, where do you see yourself in ten years?"

I let out a strangled laugh, which sort of sounds like I'm being choked and this is my last breath. I could totally play a victim's part in CSI.

"You seemed slightly freaked out by the whole questions thing so I figured I go with job questions first."

So I wasn't as subtle as I thought I was being. Damn. There goes my acting career.

"So, where do you see yourself in ten years?" She asks again while giving me a wide… wait…flirty smile? This can't be right.

"Let me think…"

I can't exactly say that I'm hoping I'll still be alive… and not crazy… and actually doing something with my life… maybe get back to medicine... although it's very doubtful and near impossible, medicine would bring way too much baggage that I do not want to be ever reminded of…

"Having a steady income job and doing everything that a normal tax-paying citizen does?" I answer. She smiles but it's obvious she knows that this is definitely not a full answer.

"Fair enough. As vague as always, but I'm getting a feeling you do this to everyone so I'm not taking an offence."

My heart skips a beat. I fucking hate when people say things that I kind of want to hear… fuck… did I just admit that I actually want people to care about me sometimes… that I want _her _to care about me?

"Plus soon we will be great friends and I won't be able to shut you up" She adds.

"Oh is that so?" I smile.

"Absolutely."

She jumps off of her bed and opens the wardrobe.

"I would like an answer to the same question as well… Crystal."

I hear a laugh and she sticks out her head out of the wardrobe… and then just stares at me for a minute. It's a bit strange, but I let her size me up. Soon her shoulders seem to relax and I guess she came to positive conclusions.

"In ten years I want to be happy. And have a family, a big house, you know, the whole nine yards. I just want to have that perfect adult life that you see on TV."

It's a lot more specific than I expected her to be. I feel honored. She trusted me, when I didn't. Maybe that's a strategy… she's trying to guilt-trip me into opening up or something… Yeah, that's probably it. Basic manipulation in social situations.

"So you want the whole big family thing, living close to your parents and just enjoying the married life, huh?" I say.

She closes the wardrobes door while holding some sweater.

"Well I did grow up in a big family so it does have a soft spot for me, but still I'm perfectly alright with having a smaller family if that means my partner and I would be happier."

I nod while staring at her face. She seems to be lost in thought.

"Although, I definitely do not want to live close to my parents. That would me… a form of masochism, really…"

Seriously? You're opening up even more? Stop making me seem like an asshole. I don't owe you shit, I don't have to tell you about my fucked up life.

"Oh ok." A pathetic response comes from me and I move my eyes to my laptop's screen.

"Don't get me wrong, I don't necessarily… _hate_… my parents… I just wouldn't like to live close to them… they just get a bit complicated at times."

Again. How the fuck am I supposed to respond to this? I'm sorry? That's pathetic. Oh ok? That just sounds rude and disrespectful. I hope your family relationship gets better? That's just making an assumption she wants it to be better, maybe she prefers it this way. Fuuuuuck.

"I'm sorry?" I make my answer into a question, this is totally what a proper adult with a long life experience would say, Arizona, good job…

"It's perfectly fine, don't worry"

She smiles again and checks her watch.

"I guess we can start leaving, I still need to show you where everything is."

"Cool.

* * *

The dining room was located a floor above us, it had a large chandelier which could be described as a wannabe Titanic choice of lighting if it didn't look like it has been made of recycled plastic bottles. To be fair, the whole room had a similar theme going – furniture made of material that was possibly used in World War II. The big table on the right of the entrance was covered in multiple choices of food and drinks. The rest of the room had round tables, which some of them were already occupied by people. Judging from the way some of the crew people eating habits, the white dinner tablecloths will not stay spotless for a very long time.

Callie gently steers me towards the Swedish table and I gladly agree. I could sell my kidney to the black market for some food right now.

"The fish here is really good." Says Callie while handing me a big plate and already eyeing the fish dishes.

"I don't really like fish." I respond and take a big portion of French fries.

She stops and looks at me for a second. I kind of feel like I just said that I dropped a newborn off a cliff for my own sick pleasure.

"You're on a cruise, you must try some."

"I think I'll be alright without it."

"Come one, Arizona, live on the dangerous side of life."

"I say no to peer pressure."

She looks at me disapprovingly and continues stuffing her plate with various dishes of fish. I add some salad on the plate and take a milkshake. By the time were both finished with choosing food and finding a table to sit at, the room is full of people. Some are obviously from the previous crew, enjoying the time off, while the newbies are running around excited to make new friends. I expect Callie to leave me any second now; she must want to hang out with someone more interesting than me.

"You're like a poster child of an unbalanced diet." She says while taking a big bite of her meal.

"I don't want to live forever." I immediately respond. She raises an eyebrow.

"Did you just… quote a Motorhead song?"

I can feel my face break out into a small smile while turning a shade redder.

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

"What, it's a good band and stop looking at me like that." I say while looking at my food, my hair covering my face.

"Like what?" I swear to God that sounded flirty.

"Like… I don't know… like… just don't look at me like that…" Smooth, Arizona, _smooth._

She laughs and continues eating.

"Well, well, well, who do we have here?" A very distinct masculine voice echoes through the room and I raise my head to see a tall, handsome man standing next to our table and holding a plate with a big piece of steak on it. He has a small beard and sort of has that dirty sex attractiveness about him.

"Mark!" Callie jumps up and gives him a big hug. My uneducated guess is that they might know each other. He gives her a kiss on a cheek. Yeah, there is potential that they could be friends. She smiles widely and gestures for him to sit at our table. Yup, most likely they might have met each other once or twice…

"Mark, this is Arizona, she is my roommate."

He sits down and looks at me.

"Ah, it seems like luck is still on your side, Torres." Mark says and kisses my hand. I expected a handshake…but…okay…

"This is Mark, a very old friend."

"Not _that _old."

"Yeah, more like ancient."

He gives her a slightly annoyed look while taking a bite of his steak.

"We met when Rome was still an empire." She adds and immediately very subtly winces.

"Ah, Torres, only I bring the nerdy in you." Mark laughs and dodges the little fish bone being tossed at him. "So, blue eyes, tell me what bring you to this side of employment?"

I physically force myself not to grunt at the blue eyes comment. Callie seems to be amused with his remark. Oh come on, it wasn't even witty.

"I just wanted to explore everything I can." I answer and take a big bite of my salad. Maybe if I keep my mouth full he will avoid asking me stuff.

"So how is your exploration going?" He asks while trying to maintain eye contact and leaning towards me. Yeah, buddy, I am so not interested.

"Alright." I mumble while trying to chew my food. My plan might backfire at any moment – I can choke, or accidentally spit some out while answering, or have some of it get stuck in my teeth. Fuck, I should have though this through better.

"No regrets yet?

"Nope." I'm wondering if he is really that dense, it's pretty obvious he is barking at the wrong tree.

"How is living with Callie going?"

"Fine."

Callie starts laughing uncontrollably. We both look at her with surprised expressions on our faces. After a few seconds we both start to giggle which in a few moments turns into a full blown laughter. Surrounding tables look at us like we are crazy, or on drugs. The guy from before, the one that looked like he was planning to go to a bank robbery, gives us a very disapproving look that kind of feels like I'm being scolded by a parent.

Callie is the first one who stops while we are still unsuccessfully trying to calm ourselves down.

"Sorry it's just the whole evasive answers thing is really funny, especially knowing that Mark has never had anyone do that to him before" She says and takes a large sip of her drink.

I still keep a wide smile on my face and pick up my drink.

"Oh my god." She says suddenly. I look at her and she looks like she just cracked the Da Vinci Code. "You have dimples."

Wait…What? I look at her dumbfounded.

"Err…yeah?

She shakes her head but still her eyes snap back at my face.

"It's just…this is the first time I've noticed it…

I shrug and feel myself growing uncomfortable, since Mark is giving me the staring look as well. It's as if they are trying to reevaluate their whole lives because of my… dimples…

"It's just a family trait, nothing special." I say and decide to continue eating my meal. I need to shift this attention to something else. Kind of ironic, back in the day I used to thrive on it, I loved being the best at all the things, not in a rub your face in it kind of way, more like being friendly and appreciating admiration at the same time. So much has changed…

I frown and shake my head slightly trying to break out of my solemn mood. This not the time or place to reflect.

"Well, Arizona, I must say, you deserve a better nickname." Mark says thoughtfully while staring into the distance.

So we were choosing nicknames for me at some point here?

"And I've found a perfect one…"

"Right, I'd like to keep the right to choose a nickname for myself, thanks."

"Nope, you don't choose a nickname, it chooses you, from now on, you shall be known as McDimples." He says while giving me a small bow and taking his imaginary hat off.

"Am I part of the meal deal and do I get a toy going with me as well?" He looks confused. "I mean, if we're going with the whole McDonalds theme I may as well know more about what is included in the package."

They both chuckle and take a long sip of their drinks.

"Hey, Arizona, right?

I turn my head to the left and find the redhead girl from before standing next to me. She seems to be on her way to her table, lazily balancing a plate and a drink in her hands.

"Hey, yeah that's right, how are you, Addison?

"I'm fine, I saw you and figured I should say hi, come to our table if you want to hang out, since I must go because I'm about to start eating anything in my line of sight."

I smile and nod.

"Yeah, I will a bit later."

"Addison, we're over here!" Someone shouts. We and a lot other tables turn to the source of noise. A guy from before with dark hair and blue eyes sits down while looking slightly embarrassed.

"Great, I must go since I think he might have a stroke soon." She says tiredly and turns to Callie. "Hey, nice to see you again, and as I see, you are reunited with the manwhore again, have fun. I'll see you guys around."

She walks away and Mark dramatically scoffs.

"I'm a catch and she knows it."

"Who sleeps around a lot." Callie adds.

"So? What's so bad about it, it's not like I'm cheating or doing it without protection. I'm not hurting anyone. Come on, Callie, this is a bit like pot calling a kettle black, isn't it?"

I glance at Callie. Oh… so she is… free love kind of girl… Maybe that's why she does that whole flirty comments thing – she is so used to flirting with people that she does it without noticing now. I doubt it's the low standards type of thing, while saying that if a person likes to sleep around can fuck anything is a bit demeaning and plain cruel, it does apply in some cases. Who knows.

"Excuse me, while I know you are all enjoying your meals, I would like to get over with the induction and leave you to continue the lovely evening I'm sure you are all having." Mr. Fugazi says while getting up on a chair in the middle of the room.

Here we go again.


	5. Chapter 5

CALLIE'S POV

The rules speech didn't take long – 10 minutes at most, followed by schedules and uniforms being handed out. It feels like _déjà vu. _I've been on this boat a few times before and this is pretty much exactly how the induction has been carried out before. Don't sleep with the guests, your room must be always ready for inspection, the uniforms must always look presentable, etc. Although, Roger also known as Mr. Fugazi, seems to have grown tired of this, it's easy to tell since he is not even really hiding it anymore –the passive tone of voice, lazy hand gestures. He once told me that he has children that don't want to see him anymore because of this job – he missed too many important events in their lives over this cruise ship. I guess he is finally fed up with this job.

Most people started going back to their cabins by now, tired and excited about the next day. Of course, some of them will have private parties, where they will get ridiculously drunk and I'm sure Mark will definitely go to at least one of them. My partying days are over; I need my sleep more than a can of cheap beer and a meaningless hook up.

I glance at Arizona, who is taking the last bite of her fries. Her body position is trying to take up the least amount of space possible as if forcing other people to not notice her. Her hair is slightly covering her face and just like always she seems to be pondering over something. She's so guarded yet so intriguing. Any deeper question I've asked has been masterfully avoided or topic would be instantly changed. I must applaud the skills. Honestly, I don't even know why I feel so drawn to her; I rarely go for the people with issues anymore. I have had my fair share of fixing other people's messes by now. Yet I can't stop myself from wanting to flirt or to simply observe her and hear her speak. I feel like there is so much beneath her surface and if I try hard enough I will get to see this wonderful private world of hers…

I wonder if something happened to her or if she has always been like this - an incredibly good-looking girl that almost always looks lost in her thoughts. I briefly imagine a younger version of her sitting in the corner of the room and simply reading a book or playing with dolls while being perfectly fine keeping her own company. It's easy to imagine so maybe she is just naturally a loner. Or maybe she has perfected the act of the outsider so well that it creates an illusion of this image actually suiting her.

"God I'm so full, I feel like I will explode at any second now." Arizona speaks up.

I like her voice. It sounds almost cheerful, even if it doesn't completely fit with her apathetic and sarcastic personality. This tone of voice seems to be like an old habit, automatically friendly and inviting, while everything else is so carefully calculated and planned.

"That's what eating an extra large portion of fries does to a person." I respond.

"Meh, it was worth it."

"I'm sure your doctor will agree will that."

"I'm sure he will." She says and looks around. "Where's Mark?"

"Oh he wandered off a while ago; I think you still had half of your fries left back then."

"Seriously? I didn't even notice. Oh, Addison has left too." She says while still looking around.

"Yeah, she did." I say and she nods while continuing her inspection of the room. "Well, since you are finally done with your meal and I finished mine 10 minutes ago, how about we head back to the room? We need to get up early and introduce ourselves to the children."

For a second her face is a mix of surprise and anxiousness but it goes into apathy mode so smoothly that I find myself questioning if it even happened.

"Oh, I was planning to wander around the ship a bit longer. You can go, I'll be back soon." She says while standing up. How is she not tired, I can barely stand and keep my eyes open…

"Are you sure? It's pretty late and the ship layout might get confusing at night."

She takes the plate and starts walking to the table where we need to leave the dirty dishes; I follow her.

"I'm sure I'll be fine, I'm just not tired yet."

We put down our dishes and walk out into the hallway.

"Well, alright, give me your phone; I'll put in my number just in case."

For a millisecond I can see her rolling her eyes but as always she is quick to mask it with a neutral expression. I wonder if anyone else is so quick to notice when her moods change or am I just extremely creepily obsessed with her.

After I punch in the number she waves her hand and takes off into the opposite direction of the rooms. I guess I must get back to the room on my own while thinking about the mysterious blonde roommate.

* * *

I woke up before my alarm went off, which is possibly the best feeling there is. I think it comes from my school days – it meant I had extra time to properly wake up, while lazily lounging in bed. I turn my face towards Arizona's side of room. The bed is perfectly made, all her things perfectly arranged. It's as if she didn't even sleep in the room. Man, she must have really strict parents or something, to be this dedicated to keeping everything in order must be taught since young age. I close my eyes in content. This morning feels wonderful.

My mind wonders back to Arizona's bed. No wrinkles on the duvet cover or on a pillow… wait… did she actually sleep here last night?

My eyes shoot open. Did she get hurt? I mean… I did leave her alone late in the evening on a ship that she isn't very familiar with yet. What if she fell overboard? Or maybe someone attacked her, it's not like some guest going crazy and attacking an employee hasn't happened before…

I jump out of bed and try to put on clothes while forcing myself to keep my breath under control. It's not the time to hyperventilate, if anything I learned throughout the years is that freaking out is the least productive action possible. It can be done later at a much better time, right now I must focus.

Just as I put a dark t-shirt on, the doors burst open and I see Arizona walking in showing no signs of requiring any medical attention. That's a good start, I guess.

"Where have you been?" I hear myself say and internally wince. I sound like a jealous girlfriend and judging from her face she thinks so too. She doesn't even do her usual cover up the expression thing – her face is a perfect definition of pure shock mixed with annoyance. To sum it up in one abbreviation it is a "wtf" expression.

"Um… just hanging around the ship." She answers slowly in that confused but very passive-aggressive tone of voice. Great, I pissed her off. Not that I can blame her. I would act the same way in her position.

"Sorry, I know that sounded… strange… I was just slightly worried." I try to explain and to my relief she simply chuckles. Even her dimples appear for a moment, which is definitely a good sign. Out of everything that I've learned about her by talking and reading her body language, the only definite detail is that the dimples only appear when she is genuinely amused. I unconsciously let out a sigh.

"You were _slightly _worried, huh? Why do I get the feeling if I had had stayed out for a few more minutes you would have contacted the authorities about my disappearance." She giggles and takes out her laptop out of a drawer.

She is joking around but I can see that she is tired. Her hair is slightly messy, her eyes are dull and her body movements are slow. She is wearing fresh clothes, though, so she definitely came back to the room to change at some point. The jeans and a grey hoodie seem to slightly hang on her as if her weight suddenly dramatically shifted at some point in her life yet she still didn't want to purchase a new wardrobe.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, the worried mom's act ends now." I say in good spirits and give her a wide smile showing that I'm no longer the crazy person I was a few seconds ago. She seems to completely relax, my stupidity already forgotten. "I'm going to take a quick shower, see you in a few minutes."

She absent-mindedly nods already immersed into her laptop.

* * *

The moment I open the bathroom door I hear Arizona make a grunting noise while some other, a lot more cheerful voice, dismisses her annoyance.

"Come on, Arizona, it will only take a minute, help out your poor mother out."

Oh. She is on Skype with her mom… I mean, I _know _that normal people like to talk to their parents and are genuinely interested in their lives… It's just not something I do particularly often… and it kind of makes me forget that other people tend to have decent relationships with their family…

Her mom looks like an older version of her. The only difference is that her skin has laughter lines, her eyes look completely open, pleasant and inviting, and her body position is a mix of confidence and comfort. A particular mix that I never thought could look so friendly. My father does the same position, but his is cold, authoritative and intimidating, while hers is full of warmth and happiness.

"Mom… noooo… please." Arizona whines.

"Is that what you are going to say to me, an innocent old woman? Don't you have a heart, Arizona?"

"Oh, come on, we both know you are not that old so don't play that card and you are definitely not innocent. Mom, what you are asking is just torture, ok?" Her tone is playful but dripping with annoyance.

"Arizona Robbins, you've been taught better than this!"

This is the moment that I decide discreetly move to my bed and find my work uniform hoping no one will notice.

"Oh, who is that? Hello?" Her mom immediately says.

"That's Callie, my roommate, mom, I told you about her." Arizona tiredly responds while trying to scratch her back. For some reason this is the moment that I notice that the hoodie is a lot bigger than her and is most likely from a male fashion line. Either she likes to buy men's hoodies or that one comes from some man in her life… a boyfriend? That would be disappointing… I swear I thought she was interested in me… I mean I saw her checking me out in not so very subtle ways too many times…

"Hello, Callie, I'm Arizona's mother, it's very nice to meet you. Thanks for introducing me, Zona, great manners."

I swear I could _hear _Arizona roll her eyes.

"Um… hi, it's very nice to meet you as well."

"I hope Arizona is being friendly and polite, she sometimes forgets how to act around people."

"Mom, seriously? I'm literally right here."

"I'm just joking, honey."

"I know, but Callie doesn't, you are freaking her out."

"It's fine, I realized it's only a joke, really." I respond.

"Don't encourage her." Arizona whispers.

"See no harm done, Zona. She understands the concept of a playful banter, I love her already."

This makes me happy and proud. Being approved by a parent is kind of an unusual thing for me so I treasure these kind of moments for a long time. It's very likely that one day I will tell my grand children about this…

"Ok, I need to go, mom…"

"Oh no, you are not running away before you help me, Zona."

"Or what? I'm not scared; I've taken bigger risks than ending a conversation with an innocent old woman." I can see Arizona's lips curling into a smile.

"I'm very aware of that. We will never forget how you jumped out of the car that one time, your father still has baby-locks on at all times."

Wait… what? I look at Arizona who seems to look almost proud.

"Oh and don't look that proud, we both know _why _you jumped out of the car. So will you help me move my bookmarks to a new browser or not?"

"Tomorrow, ok? I swear. I'm just really not in the mood today. Please?"

"Fine, fine, I'll let you go for now, I hope you are feeling better already, Zona."

When did Arizona not feel very well? Was it yesterday? Did something actually happen when I left her?

"Yeah, thanks, love you, bye."

"Bye, Zona, and goodbye Callie, it was nice talking to you."

"You too Mrs. Robbins."

Her mom starts saying something but Arizona hangs up.

"Finally, I swear she is more uneducated about computers than a caveman. I keep telling her that she can use Google, but no, she needs me to tell her what to do. It's not like she can't read, god…"

She keeps rambling and I find myself mesmerized by her voice and face.

"Callie, you're ok? You kind of spaced out there for a second."

"Oh I'm great… Just, you know, still thinking why would you jump out of a car at some point in your life?" She grunts which makes me smile. "Did those bad government's agents try to catch you after you stole a national treasure?"

"Dream on, Nicholas Cage." She answers in good spirits and closes her laptops screen.

"Come on, tell me. I have never known anyone who jumped out of a car. Was it on fire or something?"

"No…" She says while turning her gaze to the wall. "My mom threw my cigarettes out the window and my body just kind of instantly reacted, while my brain was still trying to catch up."

I did not expect this answer. At all.

"What?"

She grunts and looks around uncomfortably.

"They were my last cigarettes, ok, and I was sure that my dad would not stop at a next gas station so I could buy a new pack so… I reacted…"

"Let me get this straight… you jumped out of a _moving vehicle _to save your _cigarettes?_"

Her body seems to be the description of defeat and embarrassment.

"It's not like the car was going very fast… we barely started moving, it was like the speed of driving in a car park.

"Are you serious? You could have died!"

She scoffs but instantly makes an apathetic face. It's as if an idea of potential death seems hilarious to her.

"But I didn't. I'm right here, very much alive."

I stare at her for a few seconds while she keeps shifting her gaze around the room.

"You… are… a very strange girl, Arizona." I say while trying to calm myself down. I feel like I should shout at her, tell her how stupid her actions were, but I know I can't. We barely know each other and I have no right… Even though the mere thought of her getting hurt makes me feel like someone punched me in the stomach.

She smiles and points to the bathroom door.

"I know, I know, _Crystal_, don't worry. I need to use the bathroom though, so excuse me." She says in a good-hearted tone of voice but I can sense some tension. I guess she doesn't like being judged.

She strolls into the bathroom while I'm awkwardly standing next to my bed and staring at the wall.

I can already tell that this girl will complicate my life and make me question everything I believe in. She will shake my foundations, turn my world upside down and leave me changed forever…

And I know that she is definitely worth all of it…


End file.
